Chapter 9 #2
No way he’s getting this drink that Corbin made for me.
Just like everything else that’s been happening, why is it fair for him to drink tonight and not me?
Feeling rebellious, I stare into his icy blue eyes as I shake my head in protest. And just to add insult to injury, I put the cup up to my mouth, ready to chug the entire thing right in front of him even if I don’t want it.
But just as the plastic rim touches my lips, Dimitri suddenly pushes me, and then I’m falling backwards.
I’m expecting the jolt of hard ground below me, my body preparing for the blow. But the fall backwards doesn’t stop until the cold rush of water swallows me whole, sending my body and mind reeling. It takes me a moment to realize that Dimitri pushed me into the swimming pool!
I struggle to swim, drink forgotten and lost in the water surrounding me.
It takes me a while to break through the surface and be able to take a breath since the dress I’m wearing is now plastered to my skin and fighting against me.
My heels fall off during the whole ordeal, effectively sinking to the bottom of the pool.
Sputtering and desperately trying to tread water, I stare up at Dimitri, who stands at the edge with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a smirk on his face. He’s not even going to help me. Hell, he would probably love to see me drown. He pushed me in here after all.
After several minutes of struggling to keep my head above water and everyone around the pool just staring at me, I finally reach the ladder and manage to pull myself out.
Water sluices down my skin as I step onto the concrete.
My beige dress is wet and plastered to my body, revealing…
everything. Covering myself as best I can with my trembling hands, I bite back a mortified groan as I push past a few classmates, who are now laughing at me, and run towards the parked cars in the driveway.
I check my appearance in someone’s side mirror and am horrified to see mascara running down my face.
The makeup I spent hours doing was appallingly undone the moment Dimitri pushed me in that pool.
I can’t go back inside and face even more humiliation, but I really have no way to get home.
Corbin was going to drop me off later, but I’m too embarrassed to even ask him.
I don’t want him or his friends to see me like this.
And since I didn’t bring my purse or phone with me, because I didn’t think I’d be needing them, I’m completely and utterly screwed.
Wrapping my arms around myself and determined to walk myself home barefoot and soaking wet from head to toe, I begin stumbling away from the party.
I don’t get far, however, before a sleek, black car pulls up alongside me. The passenger’s side window rolls down, and I already know who it is before he speaks.
“Get in the car, privighetoare mic?,” Dimitri says, and I can almost hear the amusement in his voice.
“N-n-no,” I tell him as I keep walking.
“I’m sorry if that sounded like a question,” he says in a deep growl.
I keep walking, ignoring him.
He scrubs his hand down his face and tries again. “We are five miles from your house,” he informs me.
“I don’t c-c-care. I’d rather walk f-f-five miles than s-s-spend a single s-second with you in that c-c-car!” I stop and yell at him through the open window.
Suddenly, the car speeds off, and I think to myself that he finally left me alone.
But then I see him pull the car over just ahead and get out.
I hear his heavy footsteps approaching, and I tip my chin, looking up at the moon and willing myself not to cry.
Not that he would even be able to tell, because the water dripping from my hair and down my face would no doubt hide my tears.
“You can either get in my car on your own volition, or I can force you. Either way, you’re getting in,” Dimitri says, his tone deadly serious and not up for debate.
My head slowly tips down, and I meet his blue eyes, which look eerie in the moonlight.
Dimitri is standing there dressed all in black like some kind of dark knight.
A villain. My villain. He looks mad as hell, and I find it ironic.
Shouldn’t I be the one that’s pissed off?
I mean, he did push me into a swimming pool in front of dozens of our classmates, after all.
I want to be angry, but I feel a myriad of other emotions all at once.
I’m embarrassed, uncomfortable, confused, and ashamed.
I’m a ball of emotions all wrapped in one.
And as if the universe didn’t show enough signs that it hates me enough already, a sudden, painful spasm in my stomach hits me hard.
The world around me feels like it’s spinning as a wave of nausea overcomes me, and I take a few steps backwards, stumbling.
And then I’m doing the second most embarrassing thing to happen to me tonight.
I bend over and begin throwing up right in front of Dimitri.
I expect him to be disgusted or to just drive off at this point.
But instead, he walks over and tenderly gathers my hair from my face, holding it a safe distance away from the vomit spewing uncontrollably from my mouth.
Tentatively, Dimitri gently runs a hand up and down my back, soothing me, and it makes me want to cry.
How can he be so mean one minute and so nice the next?
“Get it all out. This is a good thing,” he says cryptically.
I don’t know what he means by that, and I don’t want to know. He’s an enigma wrapped inside a riddle wrapped inside a paradox. I just don’t think I’ll ever understand him or his motives, and it drives me insane.
After I have nothing left in my stomach and I’m done dry-heaving, I put my hand up, waving him away. It takes him a beat or two, but he actually listens, stepping away while I take a few moments to recover.
Tears fill my eyes as I stare down at my vomit at the side of the road. This was supposed to be a fun night. My first party with my first ever boyfriend. How did it all turn into such a disaster?
Shaking my head and wiping away any stray tears, I straighten my spine and face Dimitri.
He points to the open passenger side door, and I hesitate.
Then, he takes a step forward, outstretching his hand, ready to grab me and force me into his car, just like he threatened earlier, but I sidestep him and move towards the vehicle.
If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way.
Dimitri lets out a deep sigh as he watches me walk to his car and climb into the passenger’s seat.
The car is old, vintage, but in pristine condition.
I know he takes care of it. That’s one thing about Dimitri — he doesn’t take anything for granted, because he wasn’t raised with the luxury of wealth.
Sure, his dad has some power here, but they’re not made of money like my family.
I’m sure if I crashed a car, my father would just replace it without blinking an eye.
But Dimitri had to work for this car. It wasn’t given to him.
And if he would happen to wreck it, well, let’s just say it would be a while before he could get another one.
He takes pride in his things, and I can admire that.
That’s probably the only thing I’ll ever admire about him, however.
Everything else he does drives me up the wall.
And I fear by the time I’m thirty and have been married to him for several years, I might be mad and locked up in a loony bin somewhere.
Dimitri leans down, reaching for my seatbelt.
My breath catches in my lungs as he moves closer, his eyes darting down to my lips and then back up to my eyes as he buckles me in.
God, he smells so good, like a woodsy cologne and tobacco.
Masculine and rough. I don’t think we’ve ever been this close before, and I take advantage of it, studying his thick, black hair and every little freckle on his face. I had no idea he had freckles.
Once the belt clicks in place, he quickly straightens and closes my door, effectively sealing me inside.
I take that moment to breathe again. Then, I watch in the mirror as he walks around the back of the car, his steps even and determined.
I keep my gaze straightforward as he climbs in the driver’s seat and revs the engine before putting it in gear and taking off down the road.
“I’m g-going to g-get your s-s-seat wet,” I inform him, almost hoping he’ll stop and let me out.
“Don’t care,” he says, surprising me. Then, he reaches for an unopened bottle of water in the cupholder between us and pushes it into my lap. “Drink it,” he demands.
God, he’s always so brash and demanding.
But I open it and drink anyway. Not to please him, but because I’m feeling desperately thirsty and dehydrated.
I drink as much as I can before I put it back in the cupholder.
A cold chill runs through me, and I shiver as I wrap my arms tightly around my middle.
Dimitri reaches over and cranks the heat even though I can see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Why is he being nice all of a sudden? Oh my god, does he think I’m going to give him something in return for this ride? I really hope not, because it’s definitely not going to happen.
“I’ll p-p-pay you for g-gas,” I offer, hoping that will appease him.
“Don’t want your money,” he says.
He drives for miles with the uncomfortable silence stretching between us. And when I can’t stand it any longer, I blurt out, “Why do you h-h-hate me so m-much?”
His dark brows knit together as he lets out a puff of air in a scoff. “If I hated you, Savina, you would already be dead.”
His words catch me off-guard, and I turn to stare at him. He doesn’t smile or laugh. He’s serious. Deadly serious. Another shiver runs through me, and he cranks up the heat even more. But it’s not the cold giving me chills. It’s him.
Neither of us speak for a while. The tension inside the car is suffocating, so I decide to ask him the question that’s been on my mind for the past hour. “Why d-d-did you p-push me into the p-p-pool?”
“To keep you from doing something stupid,” he says as if it’s obvious.
I roll my eyes at him. “To k-keep me from d-d-drinking at a high school p-party? Everyone was d-d-drinking.”
“You just don’t get it,” he says with a shake of his head.
“Then enlighten m-me,” I offer softly.
“I’d rather just drop you off and say goodnight, privighetoare mic?.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I sit in angry silence. The heat is starting to feel good against my skin, and it’s slowly drying my dress.
His cell phone suddenly vibrates and lights up in the center console. As quickly as the call coming through ends, his phone begins to vibrate again. Dimitri glances at it, and a deep frown mars his face.
“You c-can t-t-take it, if it’s important,” I tell him cautiously.
“It’s my father.”
“Oh.”
I’m surprised when he keeps talking. “I was supposed to be somewhere tonight, but I ditched my responsibilities to go to the party,” he explains.
“I d-didn’t even know you w-w-were invited,” I start.
“I wasn’t,” he says, effectively cutting me off.
My brows knit together in confusion. Why would he show up at the party if he wasn’t invited? I mean, people crash parties all the time, but Dimitri doesn’t seem the type to just show up to something like that. Before I can question him further, we’re pulling onto my street.
“I hope my s-s-stepmother isn’t awake,” I grumble.
“You don’t like your stepmother?” he questions.
“I h-hate her,” I confess before pressing my fingertips against my lips.
I don’t think I’ve ever spoken those words aloud before, not even to my best friend.
Why I felt the need to confide in Dimitri is beyond me.
And the fact that he could turn around and rat me out crosses my mind.
“The f-f-feeling is v-very much m-m-mutual,” I add, hoping he’ll understand.
He parks the car near the front gate and nods slowly. “Go through the service entrance in the back and sleep in one of the guest rooms. Then you won’t risk running into her on the way to your room. Maybe she’ll just assume you were there all night.”
I’m not sure how he knows so much about our home, but I decide not to question it.
Instead, I simply nod in agreement. “G-g-good idea.” I get out of the car and am about to close the door when I suddenly turn and stare at him.
His blue eyes meet mine, and they look darker in the low light. “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely.
Dimitri simply turns and looks straight ahead, ignoring me.
Sighing, I close the door behind me and hightail it up the hill to my house.
I put the passcode in for the side gate, and then I go through the service entrance, just like Dimitri suggested.
After lying awake for a while, I manage to eventually fall asleep in one of the guest bedrooms. By morning, I can hear my stepmother concocting her morning Bloody Mary cocktail in the blender, so I manage to sneak up to my room without her seeing or hearing me.
I spend the rest of the day in bed, too sick to move and swearing off drinking for the rest of my life.
As I lie there, my mind keeps straying back to Dimitri.
I just don’t know how to feel about him, and I don’t know if I’ll ever figure him out.
But I hope something changes soon, because I feel like I’m running out of time.